Skye snuck out this morning before the sun had fully risen without giving me the chance to get a handle on what the hell had happened. I stepped into the shower and when I got out, she was gone, having left just a note saying she would call me later.
I don’t know what the fuck that was this morning or why Skye didn’t run for the hills the minute it was done, but it scared the shit out of me. It’s not that I don’t know I have violence in me, hell, the Army trained me to kill people. And I got paid to do it.
But what took place with Skye? That was something different. I’ve never been with a woman like that before—bare skin or bared soul. That’s what it felt like to me—my entire fucking soul was being ripped from my body and every bad thing I’ve ever done was pounded out into her.
She didn’t deserve that; no one does.
Yet, she stood there and fucking hugged me and acted like I had just made love to her instead of pounding her like a crazed, wild animal.
Jesus, I’m fucking losing it.
Before I can second-guess myself or talk myself out of it, I call the number I’ve managed to avoid for five months but still know by heart.
“Doctor Cochran’s office. How may I help you?”
“Hi Janine, it’s Gabe. I need to see her.”
There’s a momentary pause where I’m tempted to hang up. “Oh, Mr. Anderson, hello. Actually, I can get you in Saturday morning at eleven. Does that work?”
Two days. Surely I can make it forty-eight hours without going off the deep end. Hopefully.
“That’s perfect. Thank you.”
I drop my phone back onto my desk and stare at the stack of applications next to it. Byron does all the hiring, but I do the background checks. My sources are meticulous and very rarely do any of the employees surprise me with anything. I know their dirty little secrets because I have to. If I don’t, one could come back to bite me and Savage in the ass. We’ve worked too hard and been through too much to let that happen.
Yet, here I am, doing something sure to shatter the rock-solid friendship we’ve had for over two decades.
Why the hell did it have to be Skye?
There were at least fifty single women at that wedding. I could have holed up in a room with any one of them and fucked them and myself senseless all night. But instead, I let Skye kiss me and then spent the rest of the evening drowning myself in a bottle of Macallan alone in one of the empty conference rooms.
That was my second big mistake that night, not doing something—someone—else to eliminate the memory of that kiss, the way she smelled, and how fucking blue her eyes were when they were begging me to help her forget how awful she felt being there without Star…
I practically fall out of my chair when my phone rings.
Shit. I’m jumpy as hell.
Blocked caller.
That’s never a good sign.
“Hello?”
“Anderson, son, how are you?” The voice is all too familiar, and a rock drops into the pit of my stomach as my blood pressure skyrockets.
“Don’t call me son. You haven’t been my father for a very long time. What the hell do you want?”
He’s got some fucking nerve calling me.
I’ve managed to avoid speaking with my father since last year’s fiasco. I watched his political career crumble on the news and felt a great sense of relief that even though he wouldn’t be locked up where he belonged, he at least would no longer be in a position of power.
His resignation as mayor sent shockwaves through New Orleans. He went from shoo-in for Louisiana Governor to announcing his retirement from politics with no explanation overnight. I ignored any and all of his attempts to contact me, but the fucker caught me off-guard this morning.
“Now, Anderson, can’t we be civil?”
I clench my fist and bite back a litany of curses that would get me nowhere. “First, stop calling me Anderson. Second, civility? You of all people shouldn’t be telling me to be civil. What are you going to do? Have me killed, too?”
He sighs deeply. “I still have no idea where you got all these nasty ideas from. I never—”
“Save it. What do you want?”
Why can’t he just disappear off the face of the Earth?
“Son, I was hoping we could discuss my return to politics—”
I bark out a mirthless laugh.
“You’ve got to be fucking joking.” The disdain and disbelief in my voice cannot be misinterpreted by him. He has to know how asinine this conversation is given the circumstances.
“It’s been a year—”
I cut him off before he can argue any further, because it would be pointless. “You don’t seem to get it. You’re done with politics. Done lording power over people and using that power to benefit yourself and vile, evil men like Dom Abello. I would have thought that was made very clear when we made our deal with him.”
“But, Ander…er, Gabe, I have to be able to live and have a career. I need to do something.” There’s a panic in his voice that makes me grin. Now he knows what it feels like to be on the other side.
“Then, go sell used cars for all I care. But if I see your name on one fucking campaign sign, everything that you’ve done goes public, and you will have to deal not only with the authorities but with Dom too.” He knows Dom would kill him before he would let any of the information Dani has be released to the media. Our deal with them works because Dom polices my father better than the actual police could.
Silence lingers on the other end of the line, and I almost hang up.
“I can’t believe you would treat your own father this way.”
I scoff and let the ice cold I feel in my veins pour out into my words. “You were never my father.”
Hanging up on him feels good—really, really fucking good. That man has never been anything more to me than a sperm donor, and the last thing I need right now is to worry about him. I pushed him out of my life at eighteen, and I want him to stay out.
Shoving my hands back through my hair, I know there’s only one thing that will help me regain my sanity, at least temporarily, until I can meet with Doc and try to find a more permanent solution. I pick up my phone and make another call. I need another type of appointment.
I would have much rather spent my day off in bed with Gabe, but he never would have gone for it. Savage would never let him get away with missing work unless he were on his death bed, and then he would have come over to see what was up.
Just imagining the look on his face if he had come in and found me riding Gabe makes me chuckle as I pull into the parking lot of my gym.
A good run is just what I need. Pounding out stress on the pavement always helps me clear my head and explore everything from a different perspective. But the wet streets aren’t conducive to an outdoor run, so the track is calling my name. A few years ago, I would have gone straight to Star and dished every single detail about what happened with Gabe. Talking things out with her always helped me find a clear path through any bullshit.
Now that she’s gone, I’m left with my running shoes and my own over-crowded head. I can’t even bear to swim anymore, other than the cooling dips in Mom’s pool. Swimming laps just reminds me of competing with and against Star, and the last thing I need is another reminder of what I lost.
I glance down at my phone before I get out of my car.
Come on, Gabe.
The text that tells me he finally came clean about us to Savage hasn’t come yet. I didn’t push the issue before I left this morning. In fact, I thought he would probably need a little time alone to process everything, so I slipped out while he was showering.
With everything else going on with him, it’s probably best not to stress him out further by putting a deadline on it. But the longer we put it off, the weirder and more taxing it’s going to get for Gabe, and stress is the last thing he needs right now.
I’m tempted to shoot him a message to see how he’s doing, but that would be desperate and clingy, right?
Shit, Star, I could really use some advice at the moment.
My phone goes in my gym bag before I can do something stupid. A wet blast of air strikes me when I open my door, and I shiver. The darkening sky and whipping winds are just a precursor to the real storm if it makes it here; it’s already packed a wallop in the Caribbean and has started in on Florida. We haven’t been struck with a hurricane since Isaac in 2012, but it looks like Hera could pack a punch if it hits us directly.
We should know by tomorrow or Saturday where she’s headed.
Riding the storm out with Gabe would be ideal—I can think of a hundred ways to pass the time—but I know he would never go for it. Even if he does tell Savage today, chances are he’ll want to ease him into the idea of there being an “us” instead of smacking him in the face with it. Besides, I would never leave Mom alone during a storm. As much as we butt heads, and as much as the thought of being stuck alone with her for potentially a couple days makes me shudder, she’s still my mother, and no matter what anyone thinks, I love her.
I turn to shut my door and catch a skittering of movement in my peripheral vision. When I look again, it’s gone, but the hairs on the back of my neck raise, and the uneasy feeling of being watched rolls through me.
It’s probably just some creep hanging out to see girls in yoga pants.
The race into the building to avoid being soaked is quick. I shake the water off my jacket once inside the door and make my way to the locker room.
Just as I’m about to close the door on my locker, my phone rings in my bag.
“Shit.”
I rummage around until I find it at the bottom and see it’s Stone.
“Hey, baby brother. What’s up?”
“Hey sis. I just got off the phone with Mom, letting her know I’m not going to make it out this weekend. With the storm looking like it may hit there, it just doesn’t make sense. Chances are my flight would get cancelled anyway, so I’ll just save my ticket and use it later.”
Damn.
I really need some time with Stone, the only remaining member of the family who doesn’t continuously drive me insane.
“Well, that sucks. Don’t you have some business or something going on with Dom?”
“Uh, yeah, but it can wait a bit.”
I pause, waiting for him to expand. He doesn’t, and I know better than to pry into his or Dom’s business. “I was really looking forward to seeing you.”
He chuckles. “Why? What did you do?”
I drop down onto the bench in the locker room and check out my manicure. “What makes you think I did something?”
“Because I know you. What, did you get fired?”
“Ha, that’s a funny question coming from you. Last I heard, you were fucking up on the job and were about to get canned.”
A grunt is the only response I get, and I can picture him, reclining in his office chair, feet kicked up on his desk, scowling as if I can actually see him from across the country. “Have no fear, sis, still gainfully employed here.”
“Well, that’s good to know. Same.”
“What about that guy you were seeing? What was his name again?”
I cringe and drop my head back, rolling my neck to work out the kinks. “Lucas. And things are…complicated.”
“Complicated? Sounds like there’s a story there.”
Fuck.
Do I tell him about Gabe? He, of anyone in the family, should understand that sometimes, decisions are made and things happen that are completely unexpected. Stone is the king of unforeseen consequences. He should get it, right?
I have to tell someone.
“Shit, Stone, you can’t say anything to anyone. I’m serious.”
“I’m crossing my heart as we speak. Besides, attorney-client privilege and all that crap.”
I bite my lip and contemplate my words carefully. Finally, I decide being direct is probably the best way to go.
“So…shit…um, well, I slept with Gabe.”
There’s a long pause before his laugh echoes over the line. “Ho. Ly. Shit!” I can practically feel his chest vibrating through the phone. “I have never been so happy to be across the country. I wouldn’t want to be within a hundred miles when Savage finds out about this.”